Work Text:
Madara watches the smiling husk that makes up Hashirama’s edo tensei body, slowly flake away in pieces that light up his fading vision. He can feel himself fading, black closing in around the corners of his eyes and he prepares himself for what comes next. The afterlife, after years of waiting he finally can get to where he should have been 10 decades ago only to have his soul feel as if it’s being jerked out of his body.
Now, Madara’s died a time, or two, or three, and he knows and can testify to the fact that this isn’t really what happens.
Granted he doesn’t remember the pure world or the exact process per say, but he remembers the feeling of dying not so unlike falling asleep. The knowing-yet unknowing drift into the black abyss until you open your eyes again, ache free, and in your prime again.
Not anything like the feeling of your stomach dropping, nothing but air beneath your limbs, and the instinctual panic of not knowing what’s happening as you fall down, down, down, and—
Madara snaps his eyes open to a perfect blue sky and white puffy clouds and thinks, what the fuck.
His body thankfully takes in what his brain knew but refused to inform Madara (that he’s actually falling) and has braced for impact as his body starts hitting branches and vines and leaves and then the floor of a forest with such strength that even with his now blurred vision, Madara can see the remaining tall ass trees swaying with impact.
There’s something about the trees he recognizes and it’s not the tiny faces staring down at him in shock.
Concussion, he catalogues, nothing broken, definitely bruised, unknown location.
He sits up, the horrible case of dizziness doubles, and he only has a glancing opportunity to see black slacks, a matching black shirt and out-fashioned sandals he gave up for a newer style decades ago on his feet.
His upper body hits the forest floor again and he coughs up some residual dust as Hashirama’s last words to him ring around his head.
He wishes with a sort of desperate edge he was cashing in that drink right now.
“Uchiha Madara.” A deep voice says and Madara takes his time to look over toward some ugly bald fucker with scars scrapping across his face like claws.
Madara goes to say something demeaning, his inner fire igniting at the unvoiced slight but he instead causes himself to go into a coughing fit so bad he has to sit back up and put his head between his knees.
In the midst, he wonders what he did that deserves whatever this is. He’d rather be forced to take a nap for a thousand years or do purgatory or—
Or to die, and actually move on, that would be nice too.
“Uchiha-San.” A voice says. It’s a medic by the attire but the reproachful tone she took is aimed at the dramatic ass shinobi in the long black coat who spoke earlier. When she looks back at him her eyes are assessing but not scared.
He wonders if she’s an idiot.
It isn’t till he feels the oppressive wave of the nine tails chakra nearby and his Sharingan oh-so-happens to provide images of the Naruto brat and the pink haired medic and Sasuke just as three very tiny versions of them jump down from one of the big ass trees.
Something provides the words forest of death, and Madara hears the fucking Sage’s voice full of mirth.
The medic is talking and when she politely waves in front of his face again he notes his vision is starting to gain black and white spots where it’s no longer shaping double of everything.
“Did you hear me Madara-San?” The medic says, clearly repeating herself.
“He’s a traitor.” Someone whispers behind him.
“That’s impossible, he died—” someone else answers
“Is that a leaf headband, he’s wearing?” A third asks
“Madara-san” The medic demands
“What?” He croaks behind layers of dusk
“Can I run a diagnostic test on you?” She asks
Madara blinks, once, twice, and the spots are as big as her head now.
“Did you see how he landed? This clearly isn’t—“
“I’m going to pass out now.” Madara says flatly. His voice sounds like sandpaper. Like he’d been crying.
It sounds like the gods are laughing.
The medic inhales sharply but Madara doesn’t hear what she says next because before he knows it there’s leaves under his cheek and his vision has gone black again.
————
“Do you really want me to believe—“
“It’s not a henge or genjutsu I checked—“
“Can someone get a Hyūga?”
“I am right here, and I would have you know—“
Madara groans and trying to say shut up but his throat protests where his body doesn’t and he can’t even cough this time it’s so dry.
A medic is yelling than for voices to get out and she’s shoving ice between Madara’s lips and he blinks open an eye to see the green hair of the medic who tried talking to him... earlier?
“You can run a diagnostic test.” He says roughly. He wasn’t raised to ignore people’s questions after all.
The medic stops messing with a work machine to look down at him with a raised eyebrow.
“I already did.” She says flatly, “Go back to sleep.”
Madara grunts in annoyance of being told what to do but his body feels like it just got kicked by that stupid fucking sage so he does as he’s told.
Madara hopes never wakes up.
————-
He wakes up again, clearly in a hospital, and being monitored.
What he’s assuming is an ANBU monitoring him in the rafters shift uncomfortably as he eyes them through the ceiling, but he notes his chakra is not sealed.
He also notes a silver plated headband on the desk next to him that he hasn’t seen in years.
Oh, Madara thinks as he eyes the fairly modern hospital room, yet no recognition that he tried to take over the world a couple hours ago, shit.
He sits up with some effort and carefully doesn’t make a show of being surprised at solid black hair spilling over his shoulder and pale olive complexion of his skin.
The Nurse from before walks in and shoves pillows behind his back and a form attached to a clipboard with a pen into his hands.
“I’ll be back in a minute. Fill that out and don’t try to move. Water is to your left.”
And then she leaves quickly and Madara looks down to some medical form he’s pretty sure patients aren’t supposed to fill out themselves.
Granted, there are some areas filled. Concussion, bruising, unresponsiveness, but Madara can see information fishing from a mile away.
He still fills it out though.
Blood type—O
Height: 179 cm
Date of birth— December 24
Age— any number over 100 will look suspicious so he jots down 28 because technically he was still in village then and he doesn’t want to be put in hand cuffs. Also, that’s the year he switched sandals so maybe the sage stuck him in his old ones so he’d guess around that old.
He signs his name, as consent to being worked on and then reaches out to the water glass on the table.
He waits patiently as one of the ANBU scurry off to presumably tell someone he’s finished and he wonders what kind of cosmic joke this all is.
He looks toward the window and notices his reflection. He could probably pass as 28. Uchiha age well and he doesn’t have any grey that he can see so the wrinkles are far off then.
The nurse walks back in and takes the clip board back and does a quick scan of the contents.
She grimaces so slightly that if Madara hadn’t been looking for it, he would have missed it.
“Uchiha-san.” She starts before looking visibly unsure and then excuses herself with a “please wait here a moment.”
An old man walk in and Madara recognizes it as the Third revived Hokage.
“Uchiha Madara.” The Hokage says, nodding his head. He thinks those might be other Kage in the hall cursing but the door shuts in their faces so he can’t be sure.
Madara squints at him and shuffles some memories around till he comes up with Tobirama’s ducklings name.
“Sarutobi Hiruzen.” He nearly asks.
Hiruzen does not raise a brow but the shock of recognition is reflected in his eyes.
“You know me?” The Sandaime asks.
“No.” Madara answers candidly, deciding reanimated corpses don’t count, and tries to think of any interaction he might have had.
“You apologizing for breaking into the Uchiha district doesn’t quite count, since technically Kagami invited you.” He says finally.
Sasuke, Hiruzen’s dad, made him formally apologize to Madara after the incident but Madara at the time had waved it off cause he never saw the problem the elders did in the first place.
Hiruzen eyes him sharply, “This was recently?”
Madara refrains from rolling his eyes but he doesn’t exactly like to talk in circles.
“If you look to be in your sunset years, I would hate to see what I look like.”
The Hokage’s guards stiffen in offense but Hiruzen laughs and waves a hand to tell them to back off.
“I’m afraid, Uchiha-sama.” Hiruzen says, taking a more serious tone. “That you’re currently out of your time, of sorts.”
Madara thinks no shit, but frowns slightly on the outside.
“Hm. And who is clan head?” Madara asks and Hiruzen grimaces.
Ah, so they’re dead.
“Well—“ the Hokage starts but Madara cuts him off.
“Don’t bother.” Madara sighs. He thinks he might still be concussed, honestly, “give me a year number and I’ll look through the history archive.”
“Ah.” Hiruzen says, “that might not provide—“
“I meant the Hokage level one. That I helped build. When you were like 7, Sarutobi.” Madara says, now increasingly agitated of the headache he can now feel.
The nurse thankfully comes in then and politely shoos the Kage out with kind words that underlie fuck off in bold print.
The nurse hands him drugs then and tells him to sleep off the migraine and the bruises and the concussion.
Madara takes the drugs and does.
He hopes he never wakes up.
———
He wakes up.
For a whole thirty seconds he freaks out again, calls the nurse all sorts of horrible names (because 24 hours back in time doesn’t erase decades of stewing in a cave) until she bashes him over the head with a steel tray hard enough to knock him out.
It stops his panic attack though
The next time he wakes he’s still on the floor, and the Kazekage, (judging by the robes) is casually mentioning they (assumingly him and the other Kage) should just dispose him while they can.
Madara opens his eyes fully, Sharingan active on instinct and goes to call the asshole all sorts of names before clicking his jaw shut.
It brings the attention in the room to him, but he can only narrow his eyes at the man standing in his field of vision.
The Sharingan isn’t like it’s cousin. It can’t see through objects or other people’s chakra networks. It can however see where chakras been, predict where it’s going, and how fast it’s moving.
In that way, it nearly can see people’s flow of chakra and this kazekage (third or fourth? Madara muses idly) has something terribly wrong with him.
Madara should probably have a little shame laying on the floor, bloody, and making himself a threat but—
Well he’s been alive a hundred years and this snake doesn’t even come close to Hashirama.
“What the fuck is wrong with your face?” He asks
The Kazekage narrows his eyes, “Excuse me?”
Madara internally smiles, gotcha
“Your face,” he repeats dully, “or did you think I couldn’t tell that your quite literally wearing someone else’s? Your chakra doesn’t even reach their skin much less permeate it.”
The Kazekage’s eyes narrow and Madara smirks outwardly as Hiruzen takes two steps toward the Kazekage.
It turns into a shit show from there and Madara easily slides himself under the bed as Kage start fighting above him. He’s not even sure why he felt the need to call Orochimaru out, but if he had to guess, it’s probably because the snake forced him to see Tobirama’s face again and he’s feeling a little petty.
The nurse peaks her head under the bed, “Really, Uchiha-san?”
Madara looks up at her under his bangs and there’s a masked shinobi next to her this time in a dog mask
“It’s an adequate spot of protection.” He defends. Besides, his head is still throbbing where she hit him.
The dog masked shinobi stares at him long and hard as the nurse rolls her eyes before leaping back to avoid some spray of debris. The masked shinobi stares and Madara is blissfully reminded of the times him and Tobirama would get into stare offs in the Hokage tower.
Fucking Senju.
The masked man doesn’t leave though, instead grabs Madara’s shoulder and bodily hauls him out from beneath the bed— impressive, since he’s sure he’s twice as broad as the other— just in time for a piece of the ceiling to fall down and crush the bed and his halfhearted hiding spot.
Madara sighs, another death avoided.
The shinobi doesn’t say anything but drags him out of the hospital window and down to the street with the rest of the bystanders before murmuring “stay” and disappearing back into the fray.
So that’s how Madara became a witness to the most mediocre Kage fight he’s ever witnessed all while standing in the street wearing only a pair of black joggers and matching T-shirt.
He just saw Hiruzen fight, not even a day ago, as a reanimated corpse so he knows he can fight better than whatever it is he’s doing now.
“Not impressed boy?” Someone asks from his left
Madara turns his head enough to see a little old lady with a cane scrutinizing him.
“I’ve seen better.” He answers truthfully, wearily.
The old lady snorts, “You’re not the Uchiha Madara that tried to destroy this village, are you?”
Madara considers that. In his defense, he never tried to even when he wanted it. He attacked Hashirama with the fox, not Konoha.
Although, he figures it’s might be the same thing. He doesn’t want to now though so...
“No.” He says flatly, suddenly aware of the all the people listening in.
The lady grins, “Thought so, want a drink?”
———
He takes the drink and the dog masked shinobi finds him half way to shit faced nearly two hours later.
He hadn’t planned on it but everybody’s compounding stares apparently still affects him as much as it did the first time.
Sage he misses Izuna.
“Uchiha-sama.” The shinobi says and Madara looks over at his shoulder and realizes he recognizes that voice.
“Yes?” He says, trying not to openly stare at silver hair that he swears he’s seen before.
“The Hokage requests your presence.” The shinobi responds slowly, as if he’s unsure if Madara understands what he’s saying.
Madara mentally snorts, he used to drink regularly with Hashirama, he can hold his liquor.
“Is there something funny about that?” The shinobi asks, previous amusement gone, and oops, maybe Madara hasn’t indulged in alcohol as recently as he thought.
“No. My bad, I was thinking of something else. I assume Sarutobi came out on top then?”
The shinobi nods but says nothing else, instead throwing coins down into the bar to signify Madara was done here.
The old lady raises an eyebrow at the money but ultimately says nothing where she’s cleaning a glass on the other side of the bar.
What a witch, Madara thinks amusedly, the old lady was letting him drink for free.
Not that he calls her out, instead slinks out his chair and gestures to ANBU to lead the way.
From behind he sees the shock of silver hair and lanky gate that makes him blink a couple of times from his Sharingan overlaying a man in a shinobi alliance headband with his hand completely white with lightning.
Ah, Madara thinks, Hatake... Kakashi? Yeah that’s what Obito had called him.
Madara ever pleased with himself, manages not to clip the frame of the doorway only to stop dead in his tracks.
Kakashi stops to turn around, surely giving him a raised eyebrow for his antics but in his drunk state he can only think about one thing. One thing he fucking forgot he’s probably going to have to fix.
Fucking Obito.
————
A canteen of water later and Madara sits inside the Hokage office, staring down a beaten up but alive Sarutobi Hiruzen.
“So, the fake Kage?” Madara says, breaking the silence. Hiruzen seems grateful for the distraction since he seems to have no idea what to do with Madara
“Dead.” Hiruzen says soft but firm, “no reincarnation technique will bring him back I assure you.”
Madara nods and they lapse into silence before the Sandaime clears his throat once more.
“I haven’t thanked you for your contribution up until this point. I don’t want to imagine what would have happened if he had enacted his plans. Thankfully those loyal to sound seem to be on the retreat without their leader and Suna has backed down without support.”
Madara hums, “probably should light up the barriers in the walls anyways.”
Hiruzen nods, “The council agrees with that sentiment. Though I believe we have a window of opportunity till they return. The last leg of the— oh, excuse me, the chunin exams are amiss right now, if you haven’t noticed. After the final tournament and our guests leave the barrier will rise.”
Madara raises an eyebrow, “you take a chance waiting that long. Speed up the tournament in that case and worry about construction afterwards. Oh, and a question Sarutobi?”
Hiruzen folds his hands together to rest in front of his face, “yes?”
“Have you considered retiring?”
Hiruzen barks out a laugh, taken by surprise.
“Yes,” he says after he regains composure, “I even have once, though my successors seem to drop dead or disappear on me.”
Madara rolls his eyes and thinks of Hashirama’s descendant on the battlefield.
Then thinks otherwise
“Then stick a Nara in your place for a couple years,” Madara drawls, waving a hand, “You don’t have Uzumaki Mito to call your bets for you so let someone else choose another long term successor, once this generation is grown.”
“Retire, Sarutobi.” Madara says seriously though he’s not sure why he finds this matter to be something he cares about, “and let someone else take the Will of Fire off your shoulders for a while.”
Hiruzen regard him silently and seriously, the ANBU in the ducts not even so much shifting.
“A question, Uchiha?”
“Sure”
“Did you ever want to become Hokage?”
Madara blinks, once, twice... did he?
He thinks of Hashirama speaking to him the cliffs, wind billowing around them. Thinks of Tobirama and his insistence on democracy. Thinks of his family and the village and how he pitted himself against them, how they left him to fall to darkness.
He thinks of Izuna, only 24, a father though he didn’t live to see any child, or even know his wife conceived.
He lets out a breath, “No,” he says slowly, not sure after all these years what he truly ever wanted.
Izuna... his family....
“What I wanted was no more child soldiers, and a place for family. If I wanted that, it seems I failed but the position of Hokage was something Hashirama wanted me to do, and not what I wanted.”
“You resented that?” Hiruzen asks calmly though he’d flinched a bit at the admission that Madara doesn’t think Konoha succeeded in her original purpose.
“Resented?” He laughs, “what could I resent about Konoha? The one that stares me in the face now isn’t the one I was last in, for better or worse. Now, I can see the shit we fucked up on and—“
“Do you have a way back?” Madara asks abruptly, cutting off his own thoughts and changing his line of thoughts before he truly gets angry. He knows the answers no but it’s a decent distraction. He’s already raided every seal to exist for time travel and that was before Uzushio fell. Fucking sages and their damn meddling.
Hiruzen grimaces, bandages pulling awkwardly on his face, “My apologies, for we do not. I had someone search but...”
Madara waves him off, he knew already. Knew the sage has put him up to whatever this is.
Hiruzen sighs, unfolding his hands and pushing paperwork towards Madara.
“To reinstate you,” he says slowly, “As Uchiha clan head, as a jonin of Konoha, and maybe even a mentor to Sasuke, the last of your family.”
And Madara pauses, because fuck he forgot.
Fucking Sasuke
——————
Sasuke’s not sure if making it to chunin was worth it.
Uchiha Madara is something and his pseudo Uncle has told Sasuke that he’ll be digging through the Uchiha archive all day if he needs him.
Something about a weapon?
Either way, he wishes he hadn’t been so desperate to leave and find Naruto because now that he has...
“HEY!” Naruto bellows, “PUT SASUKE DOWN!”
Itachi doesn’t so much as blink at his yelling, instead tightening the hand he’s got around Sasuke’s throat.
What’s the point? He thinks desperately, if he’s just going to kill me now?
The shark man was amused when Itachi told him that Sasuke was related, and now he’s outright chuckling at Naruto’s brash behavior.
Jiraiya or Kakashi would be helpful right now he thinks, or maybe even...
“Hey.” A voice drawls slowly, dangerously.
It’s only his proximity to Itachi that lets him see the small hairs on the back of his brothers neck rise in warning.
Even Kisame turns to look where he had been swinging his sword to eat Naruto’s strange red chakra.
Itachi’s eyes widen in surprise and maybe fear, and Kisame narrows his eyes, as if he’s not quite sure what he’s looking at.
Uchiha Madara stands at the end of the hallway, a gunbai brandished in hand, and a Konoha headband wrapped around his forehead. It’s not the plain gunbai that Sasuke’s seen the man holding in his portrait before but instead a decorated one he knows belonged to Madara’s mother.
“You should put him down, traitor.” Madara warns, stalking towards them.
Not Jiraiya or Kakashi, Sasuke thinks as black spots threaten to take over his vision, but this might just be better.
Secretly he hopes he passes out before hand, Madara has been doing his best to dissuade him from revenge, for whatever reason. He’s not sure how to explain that he refused to run like he told Madara he would.
“Bold words,” Itachi says wearily, “from a traitor themselves.”
Madara grins cheerfully, no, maliciously, “did I? Sorry someone seemed to have messed up some time lines to bring me here so I’m making the best of it.”
Itachi goes to respond, eyes spinning dangerously but before he can, Madara swings the gunbai and the entire hallway burst into pieces sending all four of them flying.
Kakashi catches him, while Jiraiya catches Naruto and Madara somehow appears to disarm Kisame of his sword and throw the two missing nin onto the defensive.
Other jonin at this point are closing in quick, and Sasuke wonders if it was the hallway exploding or Madara’s chakra that alerted them.
Both, have no subtlety.
Kisame curses, his sword out of reach and Itachi makes some comment or another to retreat but makes the mistake of letting Madara get too close.
Not close enough to kill but he says something, Madara does, that makes Itachi’s eyes widen, his footing become loose, and Kisame has to grab him and pull him into a fast shunshin that doubles as a getaway.
In the smoke Madara stands, a decorative gunbai in one hand, and Kisame’s strange sword in the other.
Sasuke vows then and there he won’t dismiss Madara’s words as easily as before.
Believe it
——————
Itachi locks himself in his room at the Akatsuki base and refuses to speak to anybody for two days.
He had thought before, that Uchiha Madara was long dead. Then he thought the masked man was him, the one truly leading Akatsuki, the one who helped destroy his family.
He had thought....
He had thought wrong.
“Itachi...” a voice drawls from the shadows
It’s deep and menacing and everything his nightmares thought Uchiha Madara would sound like, everything he thought he did sound like but..
“Itachi.” Uchiha Madara says, fire in his eyes, and promise of pain in his smile, “tell that boy if he wants to carry my name he can come and challenge me for it, lest he find himself on the wrong end of a cave in.”
He tells the masked man this and the other shinobi goes so still Itachi activates his Sharingan to make sure he’s not a fake.
“Who are you?” He asks
The other Uchiha shakes his head.
“No one anymore,” he whispers and the at a normal voice, “don’t worry about this... Madara. Continue as normal.”
Obito stalks away from Itachi, disappearing in a whirl of Kumai.
He’ll need to confirm the information, but hell if he’ll let someone stand between him and his goals.
Rin... he thinks, for Rin
————
“I don’t know how you earned the Hokage’s trust,” the dog masked—
oh fuck it Madara thinks
—Hatake Kakashi says while wearing a dog ANBU mask,” but I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you.”
Madara scoffs but doesn’t deny the brat could probably throw him. He was marginally impressed by the man’s strength before so,
“Watch it, your addressing a clan head and founder of Konoha,” Madara retaliates with moodily. He doesn’t really feel like arguing and he’s got this stupid form to finish filling out so the council and Konoha doesn’t fucking rob Sasuke more of what they already have.
Kakashi doesn’t growl but Madara hears it in his voice when he speaks next.
“You were lost to grief. You imploded spectacularly and only luck means you didn’t bring down the entire village with you. You—“
“Yes me,” Madara interrupts, standing abruptly from his chair, “I’m just the damn boogy man in your books aren’t I, Hatake? Well tell you what, when I implode a second time I’ll make sure I do bring Konoha down with me and maybe somebody can rebuild and make sure it serves the damn purpose it was built for!”
Silence rings in aftermath. He’s in a spare office of the Hokage tower, and he’s sure if he opened his lightly cracked door it would be ringing silence outside of it too.
Kakashi is still as a statue and wonders if it’s from him calling out by name or like the Hokage, simply being shocked at his admission that Konoha has failed in some way.
Oh but Madara isn’t done.
“And don’t say it didn’t,” he snaps, “Konoha’s original purpose was a haven for Hashirama’s and I’s little brothers to grow up somewhere safe. And when that war robbed of us that opportunity—“
And it did. Tobirama got no childhood like the rest of them. In that instance Hashirama and himself failed
“— we moved our sights to the broad scope of including all children. That was this villages purpose. A place that children didn’t have to grow up and die, Hatake.”
Madara takes a breath between shouting and growling and Hatake hasn’t moved an inch so he might as well deliver a killing blow.
“And in that I’m sorry.” Madara says vehemently, “because you Hatake Kakashi are the complete embodiment of what we were aiming to eliminate children having to suffer through.”
“We failed,” Madara says quieter, knowing now it won’t make a difference, “so you can count on me taking this place out if I implode. Then someone might actually succeed it what we didn’t.”
Madara doesn’t let him or anyone respond, instead gathering his papers in one fell swoop and marching out the room like there’s a war battalion on his heels. The rest of the tower either avoids him or gapes at him but let’s no one catch his eyes as he exits the tower to do paperwork in the empty Uchiha district he’s refurbished and made himself and Sasuke move to instead of that compressed bloody compound.
Back inside he doesn’t see Kakashi slip into an empty chair and take his mask off.
He doesn’t see the famed ninja, not yet the legend he faced on the battlefield but instead a broken jonin with three kids that are too much like their deceased counter parts, place his head calmly in his hands and wonder how Uchiha Madara admitted failure yet he feels that Konoha instead failed the man.
How?, Kakashi thinks, what world do they live in that Uchiha Madara has come to make the most sense?
——————
Obito sees a young idealistic Uchiha Madara stomp out of the Hokage tower after visibly dressing down bakashi.
He wonders where this Madara was when he needed saving from tons of rock crushed on half his body.
———————
Sasuke places his feet on the least of the squeaky floor boards as he sneaks out to the back garden.
It’s not sneaking really, he’s allowed to be where he wants, just as Naruto is allowed to be sitting on the steps of the veranda waiting for him.
Naruto smiles as Sasuke comes and takes a seat next to him, and something in Sasuke has slowly shifted into place that he can want that smile aimed toward him and have it.
No guilt attached.
“Madara-san is back?” Naruto asks
And isn’t that something, Sasuke thinks. Naruto actually giving respect to someone. He doesn’t think it’ll last, once he finally puts together that Madara is a founder of Konoha and not just Sasuke’s weird not-dead uncle that saved him from Kisame and therefore saved Sasuke from Itachi (which is what earned that respect he thinks) he’ll probably start calling him gramps.
It’ll be funny then probably to see someone actually call Madara old to his face but until then....
“Yes.” Sasuke says quietly, threading his fingers through the hand Naruto offers.
“He cursin’ at that shrine again?”
“No.” Sasuke answers
“That what’s he doing?” Naruto asks
“He’s crying at the shrine.” Sasuke whispers.
And isn’t that something, he thinks, Uchiha Madara, grieving.
———————
Sakura thinks Sasuke’s not dead uncle is strange.
Sauske-kun used to ignore him, and the suddenly didn’t.
Kakashi-sensei used to eye him coolly and then suddenly didn’t.
Naruto was confused on who he was and then addressed him with respect (baffling just about everybody) and then started calling him old, which practically meant he suddenly had the seal of approval.
Sakura is confused who the cousin is too. He’s heavily scared, only has one eye, and Madara-sama looks at him with regret when he thinks no one’s looking.
She asks Ino, her best friend.
Ino shrugs and says her dad said it’s a political nightmare.
And it is.
Her sensei nearly dropped dead when he saw Sasuke’s cousin. He’d gone white so fast Sakura immediately reached out with the diagnostic jutsu she knows to make sure he wasn’t having a heart attack.
( to her it seemed he was. Madara-sama on the other hand hadn’t been concerned and she saw him discretely check sensei as well.)
There was lots of tears, and accusations about people being self-sacrificing idiots and most of the ninja who saw, including herself, excused themselves.
That’s how her and Ino ended up sitting on Sasuke’s veranda braiding flowers into Uchiha Madara’s hair.
“I think you look good with your hair pulled back like this Uchiha-sama.” Ino says serenely.
Ino is not scared of him, like some people are. In truth, he makes Sakura nervous, though her teammates have tried to tell her otherwise.
Ino’s opinion though...
“Thank you Yamanaka-Chan.” Uchiha Madara says. He doesn’t look up from a thick packet he’s scribbling over. There’s margin notes as much as there’s printed notes, reminding Sakura of the medical text books she’s started to flip through.
When she glances to see if it’s medical she’s surprised to find he’s working through the Academy curriculum.
At the top the graduation age is crossed out in red and in bold print next to it he wrote: 16
Strange, Sakura thinks, instead of 12
“I think you’ll like it better this way, Uchiha-sama,” Ino says breaking Sakura’s thoughts. She gestures for her to hand her another flower, and Sakura does as quick as she can.
“I think this way it won’t be so in your face nor hot on your shoulders.” She finishes
“Convenient,” Madara responds easily, “I’m sure it’ll be better as you say.”
Ino hums agreement, some mix of pride and joy ringing through her body language at his unspoken praise of her skills.
Ino approves of him from then on much to the satisfaction of both Naruto and Sasuke.
Shikamaru shrugs but not dismissively when she asks him what he thinks and Choji says he has admirable cooking skills apparently.
Two more marks of approval.
When she hears that Uchiha Madara defended a civilian in the market from some bully of a shinobi she thinks she understands.
They say he’s not the same Uchiha Madara that tried to attack the village all those years ago but she thinks they’re wrong.
He is, Sakura thinks, very much the same man.
This time though, he will not fail... whatever it is he believes he already did.
Maybe she doesn’t get it completely, but when Sasuke tentatively asks her to join him and Naruto and Madara and Kakashi and, well, Obito, the not dead cousin/prisoner, Sakura smiles and accepts.
He’s not so bad, Sakura thinks. She hopes Other people see that too this time around.
—————————
Madara and Obito burn Zetsu to a crisp after Madara takes down the Gedo Mazou with the most satisfying swing of his gunbai to date.
In the aftermath the other Akatsuki members flee.
A part of Madara wants to hunt down Uchiha Itachi to tie his feet and hands together and burn his eyes before throwing him to sink down to the bottoms of the Nakano River.
The other part, that part he listens to, makes him walk away knowing Itachi will live with regrets the last of his sickly life.
The vindictive part of Madara smiles in approval.
———————
Madara tried to set the Hokage hat on fire when Sarutobi tries to give it to him.
And to make it worse he insists that Madara takes it with the power of the clan heads behind him.
Even Tsunade showed her ass up to convince him.
(He knows it’s only because she doesn’t want the hat, but somewhere deep down it feels like Hashirama’s approval which makes him not protest as much as he should.)
Nara Shikaku but’s into his and Hiruzen’s argument with, “I don’t know why you find this such a problem, Godaime-sama, this way is much more efficient to rebuild Konoha than imploding and starting from scratch yes?”
Madara sputters and gapes but can’t argue that, which, go figure, the Nara is right.
He takes the Hat.
Gondaime Hokage, Uchiha Madara.
Villagers praise him at the ceremony, he has the respect of clan heads, and people genuinely want to see him succeed.
He has no idea what to with the gratitude.
The other vaguely congratulating letters he gets from the other Kage are amusing to no end that he laughs himself sick. (he knows they’re terrified of him, but they didn’t have to spell it out. He hopes he gets to see the fence sitter brat at least once, he so wants the opportunity to make an ageing joke.)
After the party and sake and the people, Madara retreats to his own house where the number of people varies from three to what seems like the damn village. He walks out to the old Uchiha lands with white Lilly’s cradled in his elbow.
He clears his parents grave and then three lost little brothers before finally Izuna’s.
His littlest longest surviving brother.
He places the Lily’s down and whispers, “Fuck you, Izuna.”
And then a little louder, “Fuck you and that hatred you held.”
“Fool me once,” Madara says grimly, “fool me twice, hell with it, fool me three times.”
“Shame on me, for all of it.”
“But I will not let your ghost haunt me this time, Izuna. This times for me.”
He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t even look at the name carefully carved into black marble stone, instead he stands gracefully and walks back to the village where he’s greeted by his grandnephew and the last Uzumaki and a little pink headed civilian.
He’s greeted by the Senju clan head and her newly adopted member (the one with Mokuton) and The Yamanaka girl who got her long lost cousin back because Shikaku Nara uncovered a secret organization that pissed Madara off so bad he murdered the elder on the spot.
(Somehow the tale was spun for this to turn out alright. Somehow the Nara made it a story that was passed around like candy, praise falling from peoples lips on his Inauguration Day.
Naras he supposes.)
In the end Madara ends up the Gondaime Hokage of Konohagakure.
In the end he decides to remake the entire shinobi system a second time.
In the end, Uchiha Madara gets to leave for the pure lands old, and greet Senju Hashirama again and truthfully tell him that they’ve succeeded.
That they won.
In the end, he can look his little brother in the eye and feel no guilt whatsoever.
In the end, Madara is glad he woke up.
..
.
.
Far beyond their time, in a pocket dimension not so far from a place called earth, the sage of six paths smiles.